"There is no Mrs. Barrington!" Stone yelled. "Don't let her in here again!" He hung up and turned to Betty. "I'm sorry, it was Dolce; I didn't even know she was still in town."
"Well," Betty said, "ask her if I can have a set of prints."
"That would be funny, if I weren't so pissed off."
"Where were we?" Betty asked.
But Stone was already dressing.
"Where are you going?"
"I'm going to put a stop to this thing with Dolce."
"And how are you going to do that?"
"I'll talk to her."
"Lotsa luck," Betty said. "Looks to me as though you're past talking."
Chapter 27
Stone parked Vance Calder's Mercedes in the upper parking lot of the Bel-Air Hotel and walked quickly to Dolce's suite. He was going to have to have this out with her, once and for all. He rapped sharply on the door and waited.
A moment later the door was opened by a white-haired woman in her sixties, dressed in a hotel robe. "Yes?" she said, looking at him suspiciously.
"May I see Miss Bianchi, please?"
"I'm sorry, you have the wrong room," the woman replied, starting to close the door.
"May I ask, when did you check in?"
"About noon," she replied and firmly shut the door.
Stone walked down to the lobby and the front desk. "Yes, Mr. Barrington?" the young woman at the desk said. "Are you checking in again?"
"No, I'm looking for Miss Dolce Bianchi. Has she changed rooms?"
"Let me check," the woman said, tapping some computer keys. "I'm afraid I don't see a Miss Bianchi."
"Try Mrs. Stone Barrington," Stone said, through clenched teeth.
"Ah, yes. Mrs. Barrington checked out last night."
"And her forwarding address?"
She checked the computer screen and read off the address of Eduardo's house in Manhattan.
"Thank you," Stone said.
"Of course," she replied. "We're always happy to see you, Mr. Barrington."
"Thank you, and by the way, would you inform the management that there is no Mrs. Stone Barrington. The woman's name is Dolce Bianchi, and should she check in again, I would be grateful if you would not allow her to use my name in the hotel."
"I'll speak to the manager about it," the woman replied, looking baffled.
"Thank you very much," Stone said, managing a smile for the woman. He walked back to the parking lot, switched on the ignition, and called the Bianchi house in Manhattan. He got an answering machine for his trouble. Frustrated, he called Dino's number at home.
"Hello?" Mary Ann, Dino's wife, answered.